


Game Night

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Series: Oracle Jason Verse [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monopoly is serious business</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Night

**Author's Note:**

> I put this in my Oracle!Jason verse which is, in short, Jason doesn’t die in A Death in the Family, he get’s paralyzed from the waist down. He becomes Oracle. Barbara Gordon is still shot, but lives without side effects.

               He started board game nights to try to get Jason out of the cave.

                It wasn’t just because he needed to get Jason out of his room; it was for Bruce’s benefit too. The two men had retreated into their respective layers after warehouse explosion, both isolating themselves from society like it was a sport. Bruce went on patrol each night, Batman throwing villains back into jail faster and more brutally than ever. Jason had become a shadow, trying to learn how to hack with every free moment, only leaving for bathroom breaks and the occasional attempt at sleep.

                And while Dick usually tolerated his family’s neuroses, enough was enough. He didn’t want to smile and pretend like everything was okay either, not after what had happened, but he was the only one capable enough to try. So with as much effort as he muster, he dragged Jason and Bruce into the living room and forced them to do the unthinkable.

                Play a game of Monopoly.

                “This is stupid,” Jason moaned. He still was weak, he had only been out of the hospital for a few days, and he looked rather pale. He played with his Monopoly piece halfheartedly, knocking it over at regular intervals.  “I have better things to do.”

                “You can learn advanced hacking; being social won’t kill you. And no, talking with Barbara for five minutes as she gives you her lessons does not count as socializing.” Jason sunk down in his wheelchair, crossing his arms.

                “Bullshit.”

                “Dick, while I agree Jason does need to get out of his room, I have-“ Dick glared at him, and for the first time in his entire life, his batglare was effective on the master himself. He would have been happy if not for the circumstances.

                “Sir, if I may-“ Alfred was sitting at the other end of the table, looking pleased with his choice of Monopoly piece.  “I think you’ve managed to jail all the criminals in Gotham that would dare to oppose you, and frightened the wits out of the others. I think spending the night with your sons might be a better use of your time.”

                Bruce stopped trying to argue after that. Alfred’s word was law.

                The game went better than expected. Better as in that no one attacked or attempted to maim one another. Bruce was a cheat (“You can’t use tax breaks in Monopoly, Bruce!) and Jason was a bigger cheat (Robbing the bank for financial justice isn’t allowed, Jason!”) but it got the two talking and that was enough.

                “I think I won gentlemen,” Alfred said, packing up the game as Bruce gaped at him. Dick looked stunned. Jason just looked incredibly impressed. “Now if I may, Master Jason had lessons to catch up on tomorrow and needs to get some sleep.”

                “Oh come on, I got blown up, and paralyzed from the waist down and that doesn’t that count for a get out of homework free pass!” Jason whined before shutting his mouth fast. Everyone in the room froze. After a second Alfred coughed. They all separated, each going to their separate corners of the manor. It was a minor success.

                At least it got Jason talking.

***

                Slowly but surely, the game nights became a regular trend.

                They were always on the second day of the beginning of a month. They played the same game every time, the Monopoly board soon growing battered after a few fights broke out over property trades. Bruce was still a cheat, Jason was still a bigger cheat and Alfred still won (unless Barbara was over and then everything was up in the air). That wasn’t the point.

                The point was that Bruce and Jason were actually talking.

                “Bruce, you can’t trade that piece of property to Alfred; we’ll be sunk,” Jason said, reaching forwards for the property card. Bruce held it back, shaking his head.

                “I run a cooperation, Jason. I know what I’m doing.”

                “He’s got a point, Jay,” Dick said from his chair. He made sure to come by for game day nights, partly to keep order, partly to be entertained.

                Jason shook his head. “You know how to run a cooperation; you don’t know how to resist Alfred pulling your strings. He’s playing you like a fiddle.”

                Dick held up a finger, throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “He’s got a better point, B.”

                “I’m offended by your accusations, Sir,” Alfred said, sorting his already impressive amount of money.

                Bruce eventually caved and as expected Alfred won.  The next few days in the cave, Jason muttered I told you so while he hacked, poking fun at the world’s greatest detective.

                Alfred didn’t bother to hide his smile.

***

                Bruce woke on at least a dozen painkillers and a very angry Jason Todd looming over him.

                “You missed game night,” Jason said, his voice tense. Bruce looked confused.

                “No, game night wasn’t for a few days.”

                Jason’s laugh was loud and bitter. It hurt Bruce’s ears. “You’ve been asleep for five. Came home with a bullet in your leg and a gash on your chest. Got infected too. It was loads of fun”

                “Jason-“

                “Don’t.” Jason poked him hard in the chest and it hurt. “I’ve lost one Father, I do not need to lose another because he’s going through a stupid suicidal guilt trip over my feet.” Bruce stared at him, his mouth gaping open as Jason started to wheel away, grumbling.

                He couldn’t hear much through the pain, medication and shock, but he was positive he heard one thing.

                “I have to find you a Robin.”

***

                Tim attended his first game night a year after he became Robin.

                It wasn’t that he hadn’t been invited before. Jason had been trying to rope him into it for months, and Dick had almost dragged him a few times. At last, with Cassandra’s insistence to learn Monopoly, Tim showed up, nervous and red in the face.

                The pieces were separated as usual. Bruce got the money bags (for obvious reasons), Dick the dog (because he was excitable), Alfred got the limo and Barbara the wheelbarrow and Jason the ship. Tim and Cassandra were given the thimble and the ironing board respectively, and soon the game began.

                Tim protested to the cheating at first, and Cassandra followed by Bruce’s example (sadly). The money deals were fast and quick. Tim organized his money like a banker and advised like one too.

                “Don’t make that trade Bruce, he’s playing you,” Tim said, not looking up from his cards while Jason and Bruce were arguing about a trade with Barbara. Bruce put down the property soon after and Jason gave Tim a high five.

                “Look, a voice of reason. Maybe Alfred won’t win this time!”

                Alfred still won. But it was by a slim margin.

***

                Game nights became mandatory. People missed due to cases, but never was a game night outright canceled. They had to buy a new board after the old one became too broken to function.  Though Dick had an idea for how to use it.

                “Hey Jason.” Dick dropped the board on Jason’s desk as he typed away at the computer. Jason sighed, turning towards his brother only to get a sharpie shoved into his hand.

                “What the hell are you doing, Dick?”

                “Sign it.” Jason looked down at the board to find the signature of everyone in the house on it, all in different types of sharpie. He looked back up at Dick, back down at the board and frowned.

                “Why?”

                “No reason,” Dick swayed on his feet, grinning. Jason lifted an eyebrow, and after a few seconds of deliberation signed the board.

                The next day, Jason found it underneath the new glass coffee table. Each of the tears and rips from various fights were still there; Dick hadn’t tried to repair them. Each of their signatures were visible, the names bright against the faded board.

                “Master Jason,” Alfred entered the doorway.  “Are you ready for game night?”

                Jason looked up him grinning, wheeling his way towards the room.

                “You’re going down.”

 


End file.
